A Straw Man (The Clay Lion Series Book 3)

by Amalie Jahn

  First game of the season tomorrow. Don’t know if I should bail. Coach would probably bench me.

  My chest tightened involuntarily. Although I fully expected him to push back, I was still strangely disappointed when he did. I immediately began typing the response I’d already prepared.

  So come up with a good excuse not to be there. When ur 40 and ur remembering this day, what do u think you’ll actually remember – practice or tubing with me?

  I recycled a line he’d used on me in the past, and I could picture him weighing his options, his forehead wrinkled up as it always did when he was faced with a decision. I moved into the shade of a nearby building and sat on the front step, praying I’d gotten through to him while I considered my next move. I watched students as they passed, without a legitimate care in the world. Little did they know about Sam’s impending accident or the loss we would collectively endure. I felt a pang of regret knowing I hadn’t scheduled time to see Sam while I was back. I’d been so intent on assuring he would make the same mistake twice, I hadn’t considered the possibility of a proper goodbye. My phone remained silent in my hands as I quickly convinced myself that avoiding Sam was for the best. The less I changed the timeline, the better off everyone would be.

  My phone buzzed, startling me from my thoughts. I nervously peered at the screen.

  Get ur suit. Be at the parking lot in 20 minutes. If this ruins my shot at the NFL, ur toast.

  Joy exploded from every pore of my body as I leapt from the step and raced back to my room. Consequences be damned, I was spending the afternoon with Nate.

  He was already waiting for me, sitting in his 4Runner with the windows open as the blacktop threatened to burn my feet through the bottom of my well-worn flip flops. He looked up, grinning widely as he heard me approach.

  “So the student becomes the teacher, is that it?” he asked as I slid into the seat beside him.

  “Something like that,” I replied, mesmerized by the unbelievable change in his appearance and demeanor. Having not yet experienced the grief of Sam’s death or subsequent addiction, he was almost unrecognizable without the dark circles, bleary, red eyes, and torment casting a constant shadow over his complexion. In front of me was the man I’d fallen in love with; a man who was ready to throw caution to the wind and live life on all cylinders.

  He started the engine and headed off Grounds. “How’d you come up with this crazy idea?” he asked. “It’s seriously out of character, especially when there’s work to be done,” he added, his voice raising an octave as he attempted a rather weak impersonation of me.

  “Ha, ha,” I said resting my feet on his dashboard. It was strange for him to be driving since I had served as his designated driver for so many months. I savored the simple pleasure of being chauffeured. “As a matter of fact, I was reading about the history of lawmaking, dating back to the forefathers and Jefferson kept coming up over and over again, and that made me think of Monticello and what a good time we had when we visited there last Christmas. I thought about how cold it was that day and how hot it was yesterday and that the only good thing to do on days like this is go swimming. But of course, we don’t have a pool, so I tried to figure out where we could go swimming and that made me think of the river and how much fun it would be to go tubing.”

  He turned his attention from the road and wagged his finger at me. “Your head is a weird place. A good place, but weird, nevertheless.” He returned to his driving and began lecturing me in a voice he reserved for his brothers. “You wanna know what I told the coach to get out of practice?” he asked, continuing without waiting for me to respond. “I told him I ate something bad at breakfast and had explosive diarrhea. Explosive diarrhea! That’s the best I could come up with. Told him there was no way I could make it to practice in my condition and that I was going to rest up so I could be ready for the game tomorrow.” He feigned anger but was having trouble keeping a straight face. He was a horrible actor. “You better hope and pray that we don’t see anyone from school this afternoon or I’m screwed. Totally screwed. And it will be all your fault.”

  “You didn’t have to come,” I replied glibly, tossing my hair in his direction as I pretended to pout. “You just can’t resist the promise of good time.”

  He wove his hand beneath my hair and gently squeezed the back of my neck. “My trouble is that I just can’t resist you,” he countered. “I think I would actually succumb to explosive diarrhea if it meant getting to spend the day with you.”

  My heart melted inside my chest. What a delight it was to hear him fawn over me the way he had before the accident instead of bickering with me about how horrible his life had become.

  To be adored was one of life’s most cherished gifts.

  “Do you really think I’d let you?” I teased.

  “Let me what?”

  “Let you spend the day with me if you had explosive diarrhea?”

  He turned on his blinker and merged into the left-hand lane. “I honestly think you would. If I was sick, you’d take care of me. If I needed you, you’d be there. Even if I did have explosive diarrhea.”

  I blanched. Here he was, trusting me to be there for him, believing that I’d always be there to help if he needed me. I hadn’t always been that person for him, but it confirmed that using my trip was the right thing to do.

  It was a 40 minute ride south to James River Runners. Along the way Nate chatted mindlessly about the ungodly number of papers his biology teacher assigned and what an idiot the TA in his biomechanics class was. Listening to him pontificate about school instead of watching him nod off was so refreshing that it didn’t dawn on me to offer up my own opinions or even elaborate when he asked about my classes. Instead, I forced myself to enjoy being present in the moment, knowing there was no guarantee I wouldn’t return to the same ailing Nate I left behind.

  We picked up lunch at Subway about a mile from the river, and as we sat eating our subs on the curb outside the restaurant, I broached the topic of football. Nate was the only person I hadn’t interviewed about what transpired in the days before the accident. And although it was too late to alter my course based on his response, I couldn’t stop myself from asking.

  “Are you excited about the first game tomorrow?”

  “Yeah. I’m ready. I’m not sure Sam is though.”

  I picked up a bit of shredded lettuce that had fallen onto my lap and popped it into my mouth. “Oh really? Why not?” I asked, pretending not to know about the coach practicing Barnes.

  He swallowed, washing down a bite of sandwich with his soda. “It’s weird. He hasn’t been himself on the field since we got back to school. I don’t know if something’s bothering him outside of football or if his arm is still hurting him from his fall at the quarry, but his passing game’s been awful and I don’t know how to help…” He trailed off, watching a group of vultures circling in the sky above our heads.

  “Did you ask him about it?”

  “Yeah. I mean I tried. I can’t be all, ‘Hey, Sam, why are you throwing like a middle-schooler?’ can I? I tried asking him about his wrist, but he just blows me off. I did see him in with the trainer last week so maybe he’s finally ready to admit it’s really hurt.” He crumpled up his wrapper and tossed it into the bag. “All I know is it’s gonna be a rough game tomorrow if he doesn’t figure something out fast.”

  Sweat pooled on my nape and I twirled my hair into a messy bun to get it off my neck. I was dying to know if Nate was aware of the coach’s plan to sit Sam out. I almost didn’t ask but couldn’t stop myself.

  “You don’t think Coach would put Barnes in, do you?”

  “Who knows. Maybe. Coach had him running plays with the offensive line all week so I’d say it’s a possibility.” He pulled open his bag of chips and shoved several in his mouth. “I hope he doesn’t bench Sam though. He’d rather die.”

  If he’d been looking at me instead of his chips, Nate would have seen my inexorable, visceral reaction to the mention of Sam’s
death – a death I alone was aware of. Just hearing his name used in that context brought back the painful memories of his passing and it was all I could do to keep from tearing up.

  “Well,” I said, attempting to regain my composure, “I’m sure whatever the coach decides will be in the best interest of the team, and all of you need to be adult enough to accept those decisions.”

  Nate stopped munching to stare at me. “Sometimes it’s like I don’t even know you,” he whispered. “I mean, where do you come up with this stuff?” He made the ‘cuckoo’ sign and pointed. “You’re a strange duck.”

  “You’re a strange duck!” I countered, throwing my balled up sub wrapper at his head. “I’m just saying that whatever happens, it won’t be anyone’s fault.”

  He finished off the last of his lunch and stood up to take our trash to the bin. “If Coach benches him, it’ll be Sam’s fault for not proving he’s worthy of suiting up tomorrow. The best guys play and everyone knows it. You don’t perform, you don’t play. I just hope to God Sam gets his stuff worked out in time to have a good run this season. I don’t know if Barnes can carry us to a winning record.”

  Nate took my hand as we walked back to the truck, the same way he always did, with my fingers tucked inside his. The security of his embrace, without the familiar dampness or shaking, filled me with a sudden desperation – a longing for a return to this Nate, this relationship, this life. Since before lunch, I had almost forgotten what I was experiencing was only borrowed time, and that in less than 24 hours I’d be returned to the reality of my life.

  A life that I hoped would be reset to undo the tragedy of Nate’s addiction.

  We spent the entire afternoon floating along the refreshing waters of the James River, lounging atop large inflatable inner tubes from the drop off point back to Hatton Ferry. We talked and splashed and hopped out to explore Fallsburg Creek and Goosby Island, even though we’d been warned against it. After throwing our tubes on the bank, we scampered into the woods, chasing each other like children through the brush. In the center of the island was a clearing, just thin enough for the sun to break through, drying our suits against our skin. Nate gathered me into his arms, pressing his cool chest against my cheek. I could hear the quickness of his heart.

  “This may have been the very best idea you’ve ever had,” he murmured.

  The weight of his admission wasn’t lost on me. “I hope so,” I replied, knowing just how much our future hinged upon the strength of my plan.

  He twirled a damp strand of my hair around his fingers. “Maybe I should just give up football altogether and waste all my time hanging out with you.”

  I peered up at him. “One good idea does not a pattern make, Nate. There’s no telling when I’ll come up with another one. It could be weeks. Months. Years even. Think of all the fun you’d miss on the field waiting for me to figure something out.” He grinned at me, his eyes dancing. “Seriously, just stick with football. I can’t handle that sort of pressure.”

  “Have it your way,” he said, as he let his fingers explore the edges of my bikini top. “I can wait.”

  He kissed me then for the first time all day, and I was overwhelmed by the sheer passion of his touch. Every kiss since Sam’s death had been tainted by his grief – dull and lifeless, given only to maintain the pretense of our bond. But this kiss… this kiss was different. This kiss reminded me I wasn’t only loved, I was cherished.

  In that moment, I decided using my trip was worth it, regardless of the consequences on the other side. To have Nate, the real Nate, back in my arms again was a delicious indulgence worth savoring. It wasn’t long before we were a sweaty tangle of limbs and bodies, entwined together on a blanket of soft earth.

  We emerged from the woods, flushed and stained with mud, to find our inner tubes right where we’d left them on the bank of the river. Grinning at each other, we scrubbed our knees and elbows in the fresh water and paddled back toward the main channel. The sun was getting low and we knew we were at risk of incurring a late charge if we weren’t back to the rafting outfit by 7pm.

  As amazing as our day together was, I couldn’t keep my anxiety at bay as we drove back to school. I had trouble holding myself together, knowing in a few hours Sam would either accidentally kill himself or he wouldn’t. If he didn’t, then I faced potential imprisonment when I returned. And if he did, then I knew Nate was going to lose his best friend again. I just hoped this time I wasn’t going to lose Nate too.

  We decided not to chance running into anyone on Grounds, and after a late dinner on the far side of town, snuck into Nate’s apartment without being seen. We holed up in his room together playing video games, and while Nate slept soundly in his bed beside me, I laid awake, wondering how long it would take for news of the accident to reach him without my eyewitness account. I saw the clock change to 1:00 and then to 2:00. Still, no phone call came. Returning home after a night of partying, students milled around outside the building, rowdy and obnoxious, but with no news of the crash.

  When morning arrived and there were still no messages or calls, I started freaking out. I tiptoed into the hallway to check for news of the accident on my phone but was devastated not to find a single mention of Sam or a late night crash.

  At 6:00 I roused Nate just enough to let him know I was walking to my dorm room for a change of clothes. I kissed him tenderly on the cheek and said goodbye, already resigning myself to the possibility of punishment upon my return. I needed to be alone for my transfer back to the present and as much as it destroyed me to leave him behind, I tearfully acknowledged I had accomplished everything I set out to do. There was nothing left but to pray.

  I found a secluded classroom on the first floor of Monroe Hall and closed the door behind me to await the transfer. Crouching on the floor out of sight in the corner of the room, I rocked on my heels and willed myself not to cry.

  Moments before the transfer my phone buzzed. I ignored it briefly, assuming it was Nate asking me to return, but at the last second I decided to see who it was.

  And then came the blinding light.

  PART TWO

  FALL SEMESTER – THIRD YEAR

  C HAPTER TWENTY TWO

  I expected officers to be waiting for me at the door of the chamber, but when the hydraulic locks disengaged and the door slid open, I was shocked to discover I was alone. There were arrows on the linoleum tiles directing me toward the facility’s exit, and I stopped briefly at the security office to sign off on the registry, indicating I’d returned from my trip.

  “You enjoy yourself?” the security officer asked as I set down the pen.

  “Uh, yeah. I had a nice time. Thanks,” I replied, anxious to get away before anyone changed their minds about arresting me. I threw on my coat and without another word, headed for the exit.

  “Miss Johnson?” he called after me as the sliding doors opened.

  For a split second I considered ignoring him, pretending I hadn’t heard my name. I contemplated making a run for my car since he couldn’t arrest me if he couldn’t catch me.

  I would go on the run. Live off the land. Disappear until the government forgot who I was.

  “Have a great Thanksgiving!” he said finally when I didn’t respond.

  I exhaled. “You too,” I replied thinly as I hurried out the door.

  It was a good thing the drive from the facility to the motel where I intended to hole up for the night was a familiar route because I could barely concentrate on my driving along the way. In addition to checking my rearview mirror for flashing lights, I’d underestimated the stress associated with not knowing how a full year of my life had played out. For the first time I acknowledged that along with helping Nate, the other consequence of a successful trip was an entire year’s worth of experiences I’d be unable to recall. If Sam’s death hadn’t affected Nate as profoundly as it did the first time and he hadn’t started taking pills, it stood to reason that he and I would have spent more time together doing the things we ty
pically did.

  He would remember all of it.

  And I wouldn’t remember a thing.

  Still, more terrifying than facing a life without memories of the past year was acknowledging the possibility that my plan hadn’t worked at all. That keeping Nate from fighting with Sam hadn’t been enough to spare him the guilt associated with his death. If that was the case, our day together on the James River would be our last.

  I spent a restless night at a roach motel just outside town and wasted no time heading home in the morning. A tiny part of me expected to be greeted by a squadron of police cruisers, but when I pulled up to the house, the only car in the driveway was my mom’s. I lugged my suitcase out of the trunk and let myself in through the front door.

  “Mom?” I called as I hung my coat in the hall closet.

  “I’m in the kitchen,” she replied. “You’re just in time to help peel potatoes.”

  I left my belongings at the foot of the stairs and joined my mother in front of the stove. Her presence paired with the sight of her familiar preparations helped ease my nerves at once.

  “It smells delicious already,” I told her, placing a kiss on her cheek. I took a deep breath, not only to savor the aroma of the roasting turkey, but also as a means of composing myself for the conversation I was about to have. It was time to find out what I’d missed.

  “You said you need these potatoes peeled?”

  “I do,” she replied. “They’ve already been scrubbed. Just grab the peeler from the drawer.”

  I crossed over to the sink to wash my hands before starting on the potatoes. “About how many of these do you think we’ll need?” I asked nonchalantly, hoping to discern who was coming for dinner.

  “I don’t think we’ll need too many. It will be just us since Grandma and Uncle Brad’s family aren’t coming. I understand why they want to be with Cheryl’s family though,” she remarked.